


The First Day

by sakuramacaron



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: F/M, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8890621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakuramacaron/pseuds/sakuramacaron
Summary: "Munakata Kyousuke is looking down on him, and for the first time in Sakakura Juuzo’s life, he’s afraid that this guy has the right to do so."A story about how the 74th Class met.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xiuxi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiuxi/gifts).



Munakata Kyousuke is looking down on him.  On the first morning of Sakakura’s second year at Hope’s Peak Academy, there’s a new arrival, announcing his name and title.  The Ultimate Student Council President; their class’s very own honorable Prime Minister.  So above it all, addressing everyone with a blade-sharp gaze like they’re his personal Diet.

Sakakura didn’t need more of this crap:  He’d been looked down on his whole life by dumbasses on the schoolyard, meatheads at the boxing gym and opponents in the ring.  They were what drove him to fight in the first place.  Through boxing, he learned how to channel his feelings of anger and insecurity into wins.  Stupid guys can be tricked.  Strong guys can be outmaneuvered.  Opponents worth his time can still be knocked out with a combination of strategy, stamina and strength.  He’s no longer the weak kid beneath everyone; he destroys any shred of doubt that he shouldn’t be messed with.  He should be respected.  Feared.

That knowledge should be enough to make him feel better, to cut down this so-called Ultimate Student Council President’s existence to something less than dust on his sneakers, but in a brief moment, Munakata’s eyes meet his.  His heart seizes in his chest, threatening to implode from the pressure.  He finally gets how his opponents feel; that stomach dropping split-second of “oh _shit_ ,” just before his fist connects with their faces.  The guy before him is an iron wall: There are no openings, no vulnerabilities and no buttons to push.  Munakata Kyousuke is looking down on him, and for the first time in Sakakura Juuzo’s life, he’s afraid that this guy has the right to do so.

It pisses him off.  He’s not alone, naturally.  A few other guys grumble and mutter crap under their breaths and even more react to the sound of excited whispers and squeals from the girls.  It makes his knuckles itch for that satisfying feeling of perfect impact he can’t relieve when they’re stuck in a classroom.  He’s not jealous- he doesn’t want to _be_ him; he just wants to _beat him._

It’s the only way to make this feeling stop.

A minute into their Free Period, their teacher is called to the Headmaster’s Office.  The man hesitates, giving the class a stern look as he makes a futile request: “Please continue studying quietly.”

_Yeah, right._

As soon as his footsteps fade down the hall, Sakakura makes his move.  Munakata is completely open, eyes fixed on his textbook.  It’s almost too easy to just grab him by the collar.  An open invitation.  Is he being baited?  While there’s a strong chance that’s true, he doesn’t have the patience to wait anymore.  

Munakata is faster than he thought.  He evades his grasp, pulling a wooden sword out of nowhere.   _Not bad._  The air whistles around the weapon as it’s swung at him, but the initial surprise isn’t enough to stall his attack.  He dodges once, twice, and closes in.  Everything seems to move in slow motion as he watches Munakata bring a hand up to guard his face.  The shifting of bone and ligaments, the tensing of muscles, all moving together in a worthless attempt to protect himself.

This stoic pretty boy doesn't have a fucking prayer.

He launches his fist at Munakata’s face and a heavy _CRACK!_ resounds.  Splinters and bristles go flying everywhere and the whole damn class erupts in screams.  Both of them are forced to jump back, shielding their eyes.  When the debris settles, a girl is standing there, wielding whatever’s left of a broom.

“Kirigiri-sensei asked us to study quietly, so please return to your seats."  Despite her motherly expression and tone, the broom handle cracking beneath her grip brings to mind body parts of a similar shape that could be crushed just as easily.  The will to fight drains from his body, replaced by survival instincts.  He looks over at Munakata, whose eyes shift between the sword now embedded in the wall and their nosy classmate.  He never expects to be on the same wavelength as Munakata, but there’s a quiet rush of relief when the other guy raises a hand to her in surrender.

“Yukizome-san, please put the broom down; I’ll stop now.”  He offers, giving her a cautious look, “If Sakakura-kun has any further business with me, we’ll continue on our own time.”

Her lips purse, dropping into a firm pout as she glares at both of them, half-expecting both them to jump right back into it.  Maybe it’s his imagination, but she looks eager to get in on the action herself.  Munakata looks at him, silently asking, almost begging him to at least give some verbal assurance to her.

“Yeah.  After school. . . or something. . .”  He grits his teeth at how awkward the lie sounds, but tries not to make it obvious.  He shoots Munakata a glance back, searching for some positive reaction.  For approval.   _There.  Are you happy now?_

There’s a nod.  “With that settled, I’m aware many of our classmates weren’t happy with me after my introduction. . .”

_So he noticed. Well, he’d be a pretty crappy Student Council President if he couldn’t see something that obvious._

“. . . but a blanket apology is an insincere solution.  Instead, I’ll focus on being someone all of you can put your confidence in.  I want to be someone the class can trust.  Especially you, Sakakura-kun.”

The combo of Munakata’s cold tone and distant expression is nothing like the politicians on tv, spouting bullshit with a plastic smile on their face.  As much as Sakakura wants to believe his words are a lie, even he can tell how dead serious he is.  This kind of honesty isn’t what he expects from honor student types who get ahead by working the angles.  If anything, Munakata carries himself like a fighter.  If this were a real bout, maybe he’d think about shaking this guy’s hand and moving on.  Except those fights aren’t personal: His problem with Munakata is.

Or he’d like to think it is.  So it should be easy to reject Munakata’s offer, but for some stupid reason (aside from the girl who looks ready to break his dick), he doesn’t have it in him anymore.  Of all the times to lose steam: the whole damn class has their eyes on them, watching their every move.  Waiting for his response.  His face burns; his chest gets tight all over again.  Even if he can’t make himself hate this guy, he doesn’t want him to win either.  He doesn’t want his classmates to think that he’s soft.  

There’s only one way to protect his reputation.  

This time, no one can stop him.

This time, he doesn't miss.

Munakata collapses and the classroom explodes in a mix of screams and cheers, but before he can drink it in or try to dodge their teacher’s return, everything goes black.

The alternating piercing stings and violent throbs at the back of his skull wrench him from unconsciousness.  He’s not exactly sure how he got in the infirmary, but through the half-drawn curtains, he sees Munakata sitting on the next bed over, with an ice pack pressed to his right eye.  

When Munakata notices he’s awake, he greets him stiff-lipped, with only the corners of his mouth quirking upward in something like a smile.  He says, “You’re awake,” but it feels like he meant to say, _You're alive._

“What time is it?”

He doesn't expect an answer, but Munakata responds anyway: “Almost lunch.”

“--Oh, speaking of which--” That girl’s voice chimes in, and it takes everything Sakakura has to keep from freezing up on reflex.  Even when both of them try to hide it, she picks up on their reactions.  Her cheeks puff up and she sulks, offended, “Geez, what’s with you guys?  I even took the trouble of bringing food. . .”

To prove her point, a tiered lunch box is set next to Munakata and she begins unwrapping it.  Before he can even ask _how_ she has all that food, she adds,  “I’m used to cooking for a lot of people and share with the class whenever I can.”

Her instincts must be really good, because he’s pretty sure his thoughts aren’t written all over his face.

“Here, eat up!”  One tray of the box is shoved at his chest, with a napkin and chopsticks quick to follow.  Fluffy, thick lemon yellow pieces of rolled omelette are nestled next to a speckled mound of rice with a happy face made of seaweed and ham.  Juicy red cherry tomatoes top a crisp pile of lettuce with thin spirals of carrot strips.  There’s bite-sized pieces of fried chicken too, coated with a light shell of crispy batter with the mouthwatering scent of the garlic, ginger, sake and soy sauce the meat was marinated in.  He’d almost call it healthy, if it weren’t for the pair of sugar-sprinkled butter cookies in the corner of the tray.

He has to admit it’s better-looking than anything he could grab at a convenience store, but isn’t the shift from attacker to caterer too extreme?  Unsure of what else to do, he looks to Munakata again, who’s already got a piece of omelette in his mouth.  Most likely, she hasn’t done anything weird to the food.  The guy hasn’t keeled over yet and the girl’s eating her own cooking, but he still has his doubts.  Sensing that, she stares at him and his untouched tray.  

“. . . What do you want, Yukizome?”

“Ah--  You finally said it!”  Before he can pull back, she’s too damn close, eyes sparkling like she’s gonna cry.  

“Said what?”

“My name.” she points at him for emphasis with a grin:  “You know, we spent a whole year in the same class and you’ve never said a word to me.”

That doesn’t come as a surprise to him; he wasn’t going to waste any time doing more than what’s needed to get teachers off his ass.  More importantly, socializing with the class would ruin the image he’s scraped together for himself.  He’d rather be alone than lose that.  He doesn’t need friends, especially not a girl that’d make him look whipped.  

If it weren’t for his better-than-everyone attitude, Munakata might be someone he could tolerate.  He’s a half-decent fighter and an honest person.  Maybe he’d be useful for keeping Yukizome on a short leash too.  He can’t expect much now; punching someone in the face is usually a real fast way to burn a bridge.  He still can’t tell if he’s angry about it or not.  When he finishes eating, he rests his chopsticks on the corner of the tray and looks at him:

“Sakakura-kun, I understand that I put you on the spot, and that’s why you hit me.  Since it’s my fault, I won’t complain to the teacher or Headmaster about it.  In all likelihood, because of your talent, they’d regard what you’ve done as ‘practice,’ anyway.  But, just for personal reference, I’d like to know why you confronted me in the first place.”

There’s no way he can answer that, not without sounding like a loser.  He stays quiet, which he takes as a hint to guess out loud:  “I know that the talent that got me here isn’t like a lot of the others: The student council president should be an elected position.  By coming here with that title, I’ve bypassed the standard process.  I wouldn’t disagree with anyone who’d say that I didn’t earn it.”

That earns a snort.  The only time he gives a damn about what the rest of the student body thinks is when it involves their opinion of him.  He didn’t even bother paying attention to anything the Student Council did last year.  And even if he doesn’t like the guy, he knows better than to think he doesn’t deserve to be here.  Hope’s Peak Academy has a reputation for scouting the best talent in the country, so Munakata couldn’t have been some random choice.  It’s not like anyone could talk or bribe their way in if they wanted to.

“. . . No matter what my grades are like, or how I conduct myself, the support of the student body remains key to my success.” Munakata’s words are definitive, set-in-stone fact, which makes how wrong he is even more irritating. It pisses him off that someone presumably smart can overlook an obvious answer for something so over-complicated.  He doesn’t want to hear any more of this, but he doesn’t want to explain himself either.  For once, it’d be nice to be understood without having to deal with the embarrassment of saying how he feels out loud, but it’s easier to rely on old tactics.

He cuts him off with a growl, “If you don’t shut up, I’ll punch you in the other eye--”

“What I think Sakakura-kun means is that you’re far off the mark.  Isn’t that right?”  Before Munakata can even get on guard, Yukizome is defusing the situation:  The smile on her face is confident, like she already knows the answer:  “So?  What’s your reason?   I brought both of you to the infirmary and cleared everyone else out so you guys could talk without getting bothered.”

He doesn’t want to know how she managed to get two unconscious guys to the infirmary by herself.  She’s already intimidating enough, even as she tries to make him feel comfortable.  He'd almost prefer being threatened by her again instead of having her think he needs to be babied like this, but he's too tired to fight anymore.  He breaks eye contact, grabbing his chopsticks to stab at the rice in the tray a little.  “When you introduced yourself this morning, It was like you were looking down on me.  . . .It pissed me off a little.”

Yukizome listens with a soft noise to acknowledge what she suspected he’d say. He expects Munakata to question him, or make fun of the way he felt.  The dead air in the room makes him uneasy, but when he finally looks at him, he’s frowning a little, cupping his chin with his free hand.  He's taking what's been said seriously, as if he'd gotten a formal complaint.

“I see.  I’ve been told I have that kind of face before, but I wasn’t sure if it was true or not.”

While Yukizome laughs, he fires back before he can stop himself: “Have you _looked_ in a mirror?  You do.”  

“You _totally_ do," she adds, "Although it's not a bad thing.”

“Should I try to smile more?”

“Not if it’ll look anything like what I saw when I woke up.  Quit doubting yourself and do what you want.” As he answers, he feels comfortable enough to pick up a piece of chicken and stuff it in his mouth.

Yukizome wastes no time in asking: "So? How is it?"

Considering everything that's led up to this moment; the confrontation, getting ambushed and having to look like a fool while admitting to what got them here in the first place, he's surprised by his own answer: "...Not bad."

If this is what having friends is like, then maybe he won't mind it too much.


	2. A Summer Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While she’s pushed them, prodded them and sometimes played a little too rough with them, up until this moment, she’d never done anything affectionate before.

A day turns into a week.  That week turns into a month.  Occasionally sneaking a lunch with them leads to grabbing snacks together after school.  Before he realizes it, the rest of the term has flown by and he’s spending the class Summer trip with them.   

Even though they’re miles away from school on a tropical island, it’s the three of them together.  Yukizome Chisa never asks why Sakakura treats spending time with her and Munakata like a secret; she’s known about his reputation before they even started talking.  It’s the reason she wanted to approach him in the first place:  A person like him, single-mindedly focused on their talent, in a school focused on fostering that talent, could easily spend three years alone.  What a waste!  High school should be a celebration of youth; an opportunity to explore, to make mistakes!

To make friends.

Even if they don’t end up as besties, she doesn’t want any one of her classmates to look back and feel like they’ve missed out on something.  Maybe that’s the freedom that comes from having a talent she doesn’t feel defined by.  With boxing, there’s a clear goal, an indisputable top, a  _ prize _ .  The barrier to success is that much higher and he has to push himself that much harder to achieve it.  While that’s the same for many of their classmates, she’d managed to bond with them.  Through the year, she provided food, an attentive ear, her own strength and companionship, and as everyone around her opened up, they spread their wings and forged their own friendships.  But one student eluded her.  Even after all her research, there was no way to make Sakakura look at anything other than his goal.  After he reached it, what lay beyond?  That’s the part that worried her most.  

Until Munakata Kyousuke came along.  

She didn’t anticipate Sakakura’s reaction, but she couldn’t’ve imagined a better meeting for the two of them!  A showdown in a classroom, right out of a shounen manga!  Then, all it took was a little nudge from her to get the two of them alone in the infirmary.  Keeping others out was the only way to get him to open up.  But it’s fine if he wants to keep their friendship between the three of them: There’s no need for any of them to shout about it from the rooftops, because peacefully spending time together at all still feels like a dream.

After tidying Sakakura’s room and preparing fruit parfaits for the three of them (one with yogurt for the boxer watching his weight, since he glared daggers at the ice cream), she allows herself to relax.  The refreshing sweetness of cream, sugar and fruit on her tongue adds an extra layer of bliss to an already blissful moment, sitting next to Munakata.  It takes a while for him to notice, but when he finally looks up from his work, his question catches her off guard:

“Yukizome, are you sure you’re enjoying yourself?”  His voice is a quiet undertone to the rhythm beat out by Sakakura’s fists, trying not to break his concentration.

“Of course I am.  Why wouldn’t I be?”   _ That’s the only answer, isn’t it? _  She wants to be with Munakata and Sakakura.  There’s no reason to ask for more.

He pushes further, getting closer, “I mean it.  It’s my responsibility to ensure this trip is a success for everyone, you included.”  

The pounding of her heart could almost be mistaken for the sound of Sakakura at work, except he’s paused to grab the parfait she left on the table for him:  “If you wanna go somewhere, you can take Munakata with you.”

The moment he hears his name, he looks a little lost, then curious, looking at Sakakura and then her for some kind of explanation.  It’s cute in a way.  She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t appreciate the suggestion, but the same time, she can almost smell Sakakura’s search for some kind of out.  

The last thing she wants to do is leave him alone.  Not after he’d made so much progress.  Not after months of trying to get him to warm up to her and Munakata.  Not after he’d grown on  _ them _ , gruff stares and all.

“Oh, no.”  She rises to her feet to shove both of them out the door, “You have to come with me.   _ Both _ of you.”

They emerge from the cottage to see the sun fading into the purples of dusk; the air free of oppressive humidity and on the pleasant side of warm.  Clearly, it’s the perfect weather for a twenty-minute hike uphill and down through a cave.  It takes Munakata a little more time than Sakakura to make the trip, but when he emerges, cheeks flushed and just a little short of breath, the hint of a smile on his face is priceless.  He treks across the isolated beach to get a better look at the moon reflecting on the waves, “Yukizome, how did you find this place?”

“You’re not the only one who did their research!”  Being able to surprise him fills her with more pride than she could possibly imagine.  At this point, she doesn’t expect disapproval from Sakakura either, but it never hurts to ask:  “What d’you think?  It’s already dark, and no one else is around.  No complaints, right?”  

Sakakura moves closer to the water’s edge, looking down the shoreline in both directions to make sure they’re really alone, “. . . I wanted a break, anyway.”

“It’s almost eight o’clock.”

“Yup!”

“What’s happening at eight?”

Distant shrieks pierce the calm of the night sky as fireworks rocket upward to answer Sakakura’s question, exploding in a rainbow of bursts.  They sparkle and fade, only to be replaced by more.  It’s hard to miss Sakakura standing to her right, and she knows Munakata is to her left, but it doesn’t feel. . .  right.  She wants to be close to them; to solidify the feeling that they’re on this beach, under the same moon, watching the same fireworks together.  While she’s pushed them, prodded them and sometimes played a little too rough with them, up until this moment, she’d never done anything affectionate before.  Making physical contact was never a problem, but a second of doubt makes her freeze:   _ They aren’t really touchy-feely people. . . Would they hate it?  This is what friends do, so it’s fine, right? _

Heart pounding, she takes a deep breath and goes for it.  As she draws them together by the arm, she can feel them tense and resist.  In response, her hold on them loosens, though she keeps their arms linked, dead armed but hesitant to let go completely.   _ Ah, this hurts. _  Even if she knows this was bound to happen, she can’t help hoping it’d go better.  There’s a lead-heavy sensation in her chest, but before she can beat herself up over her mistake, Munakata shifts closer and soon after, Sakakura does the same.  Contented and feeling a little more confident, she hugs their arms and allows herself to lean on Munakata. 

She’s soaring, totally giddy over having them so near.  It’s almost silly to think how Munakata would worry about her enjoying the trip when this is all she wanted from the start.  Part of her wants to shout about her happiness atop the beach cliffs, but there’s something cool about keeping things between them: the moments when Munakata’s seriousness flusters him so much, it’s funny; the times when Sakakura relaxes and reveals bits of softness to them; this night on a moonlit beach, when they’ve surprised her with their warmth.  The more she thinks about it, drinks in their closeness, the less she wants to share it with anyone else.  

This is her summer secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up writing more, but it turned out to be too long for a treat and not something that I wanted as a standalone fic. While Sakakura seems pretty open about his friendship in the Otomedia articles and the Hope Room segment, I figure that's something he'd eventually work up to.

**Author's Note:**

> Munakata's talent really is unusual. Considering that a student has to be in high school in order to be scouted and that he'd have to be elected Student Council President before proving himself worthy of that title, it didn't seem feasible that they met during the first year of school. If students are also scouted for a specific talent, it wouldn't make sense that he'd be elected as a student of Hope's Peak either.
> 
> My biggest worry, admittedly, is that I'd like to write more, but it won't end happily if I do that.


End file.
